Rose and Thorn
by narcissist1234
Summary: Hermione and Draco. 7th year, everything and everyone is changing to adapt to the new world.
1. Chapter 1

Hermione rushed down the empty halls. After the last year, Hogwarts, her home, felt empty and cold. She was nearly late for her first class of the year. As she approached the Arithmancy classroom she peered past the door and saw that nearly all were seated. As the last students filled the front seats, Hermione slipped into the classroom inconspicuously as Professor Vector had her back turned, writing on the board. She looked around only to find that the last empty seat was at the back of the classroom. She hurried towards the seat and sat down.

As class went on, Hermione found herself in deep thought. This year was set to be difficult, particularly for Harry. With their NEWTs, Voldemort growing stronger and the loss of Dumbledore, **she** felt Harry slipping away, distancing himself from herself and Ron. Their summer at The Burrow showed Hermione this. Harry stayed up in Ron's room while the others tried to enjoy what seemed to be their last free summer. Whenever Ron or Hermione went to check up on him, they found him sitting on the window seat, with Hedwig at his feet. He had one or another open his lap, but his gaze was fixed outside, looking out the window. Each time they entered the room, he dismissed them with a blank smile and limited conversation. It was like this during meals as well, a blank and empty Harry with his usual emerald eyes void of their shine. Adjusting to this new Harry was especially difficult on Ginny, with whom he broke it off with before the summer.

She shook her head and tuned into what the Professor was saying. Soon after, class was dismissed and Hermione packed her belongings. As she put all her quills and parchments in her bag, she dropped a quill. She bent to pick it up and was faced with a large foot pressing over it. She looked up and saw Malfoy. He was unaware of the quill as he stood over his desk positioned directly next to hers. She hadn't seen him, which was strange as Malfoy dominated a room every time he was in one. She peered at him. His face looked gaunt and worn, with deep bags under his eyes. His usual slicked back hair was loose and around his face in light wisps. Hermione tugged the quill and he looked down. He removed his foot. No remark, no comment. Not even a glance in her direction. She straightened and adjusted her bag on her shoulder. Slowly, she followed Malfoy out of the room and headed straight to her next class. Potions. Ron and Harry were seated at a table with Neville. She filled in the last remaining seat.

"Hermione" Neville beamed, "How was your summer?" Hermione returned the smile and answered the question. As it was the first lesson of the year, Slughorn assigned a simple potion which Hermione completed within 20 minutes. She sat back and glanced around the classroom. Harry, Ron and Neville still had their heads down working, without result it seemed, on their potion. She looked around the classroom and was suddenly faced with direct eye contact with Malfoy. It had seemed that he had also finished his potion. He really wasn't looking too good, she thought to herself. It seemed to Hermione that he was staring at her, but with closer observations she saw that his eyes were glazed over and his hands absently fiddling with his wand. His eyes were blank and void of all the malice and cold humour. Looking at him, Hermione thought to her, what could make the great, pompous Malfoy into a shadow of his old self-"Hermione?" Ron's voice broke through her train of thought "what are you looking at?"

"Nothing" she replied "Need help?" Hermione turned to help Ron and soon forgot the look Malfoy was sporting.


	2. Chapter 2

Days passed like this. Hermione felt Harry deteriorating, the life being sucked out of. They were all seventeen, so they were initiated into the Order of Phoenix the previous summer. Lupin occasionally sent tiny morsels of information to Harry. These were the letters Harry lived for. Since Dumbledore's death, Harry did not have a confident in the castle and Lupin served as his only communicant from the outside world.

Recently, Ginny decided to move on. She had started seeing Dean Thomas again, whether or not she had genuine feeling for him or not Hermione did not know, but Hermione could see that it irked Harry. She hadn't forgotten about Malfoy. She found herself staring at him every now and then, when no one else was looking. He met her eye once, it was brief but even from across the hall Hermione could see how emotionally void and blank his eyes were.

Hermione was sitting in the library working on her Arithmancy essay. It was nearly midnight, but she wanted to finish it before going to bed. It was Hogsmeade Saturday tomorrow and Hermione wanted to spend the entire day shopping for Christmas gifts for everyone, as well as buying a dress for the 7th year Christmas Ball.

Finishing off a sentence, she looked up just in time to see a tall figure slinking into the library and heading straight towards the shelves. Hermione didn't usually see people in the library after ten, so she was immediately curious. She slowly stood up, but slid her chair with a loud scrape so the stranger was aware that someone was in the library, so as not to startle them. She approached the shelves just as the stranger pulled down the hood of his cloak. It was Malfoy.

"Granger" he said, with a nod.

"Malfoy, what are you doing here?" Hermione very nearly snapped. Malfoy looked worn out as he slowly turned away from her and back to the shelf. "I'm looking for a book" he replied blandly.

"O" she sounded pathetic, even to herself. She tried again "On what?"

"Arithmancy, the essay for Vector."

"Need help?" What! What! What am I asking, Hermione thought.

Malfoy turned to look at her, eyebrows high "No" he replied with a look of puzzled annoyance.

Hermione blushed, and quickly hurried back to her table. She put her head down and started working in her essay again. She violently dragged her hand across her parchment, not daring to look.

Draco watched her retreating back, shaking his head. The interaction left him baffled. He turned around and scanned the shelves. He was looking for a particular book, but could not seem to locate him. His search lasted two more minutes until he realised that Granger must have the book. Sighing, he made him way towards her table. As he approached she looked up, startled.

"Are you done with that book, I need it". Realisation replaced shock as she replied "Er no, I need it for a few more paragraphs, but you're welcome to use it with me."

Draco sneered and said "No thank you, I'd rather wait until you're done." And with that turned on his heel and deposited his bag on a table a distance away from Hermione's. He took his cloak off and arranged it on the seat before sitting down. He got some other work done as he waited for the book.

He didn't look at her as he pondered about Granger's strange behaviour. He always thought her a bit weird but now he was starting to think she was downright loony, because if he was not mistaken, she was being nice to him! But he knew what had brought this on. He had been looking as wrung out and broken on the outside as he felt on the inside. Pity! Her pity, he thought, his face displaying utmost disgust. He did not need a Mudblood's pity. He finally looked up at her. The filthy Mudblood was writing and was nowhere near done with the book by the looks of it.

He began writing and completing his other pieces of work. He turned, too quickly, to his bag and felt a sharp, deep pain in his left shoulder. A present. From his master. He was covered in these 'presents' which he was force to carry on his person as a mark of his loyalty to his master. Along with the dark tattoo that marked his smooth white skin on his left forearm. Subconsciously, he started to rub his arm, where the mark was. He was seventeen years old, born into evil. But what made him think was the fact that he hadn't minded this burden, till recently. The Dark Lord had begun to feel restless. Dumbledore's death had not felt like a triumph. Snape had lost his cover and they were no closer to killing Potter than they were before the old bastard's death. The Dark Lord had begun taking his frustrations out on his followers, particularly his mother. With his father in Azkaban, there was nothing stopping him and his followers, who were residing in Malfoy Manor, from raping his mother from time to time.

"Malfoy…" he turned sharply "I'm done with the book" she said holding it out for him. He grabbed it from her with a snarl.

Hermione blinked. He snatched the book and turned away from her, already flicking through the pages. She quickly walked back to her table collected her things and left the library. She rushed down the corridors, she did not like the dark very much. When she reached the Gryffindor tower she didn't bother showering, it was too cold for that, brushed her teeth and changed in to her night clothing and quickly stuffed herself into her plush queen-sized bed. A perk of being Head-Girl, her own room and a bigger bed.

She sighed as she contemplated over the events in library. She did not know what prompted her to act the way she did. Yes, she was a compassionate woman, but Malfoy did not deserve that compassion. He was a Death-Eater, he did not deserve anything. It was his eyes, she thought to herself, those sad, helpless, tortured eyes. But slowly her compassion melted away. When he snarled, snatched and snapped at her. He was Malfoy. Draco Malfoy. Nothing had changed, even if his eyes had.


End file.
